


Personal Best

by orphan_account



Series: begin to hope [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, but bones has it under control, jim freaks out, like really sappy guys, super sappy, the abandonment issues are strong with this one, this is really emotional porn??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim freaks out. Bones shows him how much he doesn't need to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Best

**Author's Note:**

> i felt bad because there was sex about to happen previously but then it didn't, so i wrote this as a consolation. be prepared for emotions. there's no need to read the previous installment to get this one because it's, like, porn. 
> 
> title is taken from a line of dialogue because how do you title?? 
> 
> unbeta-d, so the shittiness is all my fault.

Jim was fifty shades of fucked up and he knew it.

He was ungrateful, jagged, broken, and he knew the moment people saw that—the moment they got too close—they would leave. It was why he kept everyone at an arm’s length, why he never stopped grinning and pushing their buttons. If he pissed people off or baffled them with bullshit, they would leave him alone. No one actually _wanted_ to deal with others’ problems; if one gave them an excuse not to probe too deeply, they would be able to assuage their conscience and leave. 

So he did that, and did it really well. People wouldn't ever _love_ him, no, but they would either like him enough to listen or dislike him enough to leave him alone, and that was all he needed. 

Except—as always—for Bones. Jim had started hanging out with Bones because he was interesting, bitter, and fucking hilarious. He was pissed off at the world and was content to glower at everything, and that was better than having to hang out with the fresh, young faces at the academy. Bones was jaded, able to hold his liquor, and able to hold an intelligent conversation; that was all Jim needed.

But with Bones, just casual company hadn’t been _enough_. Jim found himself seeking out Bones, talking to him and laughing with him, and, suddenly, for the first time in his life, Jim had a best friend. Jim told Bones shit that he’d never told anyone—about Winona, his dad, hints about Frank, and got the closest he’d ever gotten to spilling about Tarsus. 

Jim had never been close with anyone besides Sam, and Sam had left him, abandoned him with Frank; Bones hadn’t even _hinted_ at any sign of rejection or abandonment. It was then that Jim had realized he was in _way_ too deep, and he’d freaked out. 

Bones hadn’t let him be, though—he’d hunted Jim down, sat him down, shoved a drink in his hand, and had told him that he didn’t know what the damage in Jim’s head was, but, “dammit, Jim, stop being and idiot ignoring me.” 

Jim had acquiesced, because he’d started to _rely_ on Bones, and it’d taken him a while to be okay with that.

So, when he woke up to Bones’ arms wrapped around him, their legs tangled up together and the sheets bunched around their bodies, his first thought after realizing where he was and with _whom_ was to bolt. He had to leave, he had to get away, because he couldn't do this. He couldn't do _relationships_ —they were too much for him. He’d have to be completely honest, he’d have to bare himself to Bones, he would have to let Bones _see_ him, all of him, and then Bones would leave. Bones would leave him, like everyone always did, and he couldn’t fucking deal with that. 

Relationship was too big a word for him, it meant too much. Jim wasn’t _enough_.

He shifted. There was a small bit of light coming from the “windows”—an artificial ray of light, designed to mimic sun, which was a way to make it seem like space actually had days. Bones furrowed his eyebrows and shifted in his sleep, shutting his mouth where a trail of saliva had made its way down the corner. 

Jim smiled without meaning to. It should’ve been gross, but it wasn’t. He looked at the chronometer and sighed. Two more hours until he had to get up. Dammit. He’d have to lie awake with his thoughts for two more hours, because it wasn’t like he could just go back to sleep; he was too wired.

He laid back down, untangling his legs from Bones. He stared at the ceiling and pursed his lips because _fuck_.

“Jim?” Bones’ voice was groggy and scratchy from sleep.

Jim turned his head to whisper, “Hey, Bones. Go back to sleep,” because it was early and Jim didn’t need to deal with Bones when his thoughts were so scattered.

Bones shifted onto his elbows. “Wa’s wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Lights, twenty percent.”

Jim blinked against the light and looked at Bones, who was looking at him with squinty eyes and a ridiculous bed-head. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep, man, it’s still early.” 

Bones ran a hand through his hair, blinking slowly. He yawned. “Like hell there ain’t anything wrong. You’ve got that look I hate. So what’s wrong?” His accent was much thicker in the morning. It wasn’t something Jim had known before. 

Jim opened his mouth. Shut it. “Nothing.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Right. That’s why you look like you’ve been contemplating the meaning of life.” He sighed. “Christ, Jim, it’s too early to be thinking this hard.”

“I’m not—it’s nothing. Nothing, okay? Seriously, go back to sleep. You’re cranky when you haven’t had any coffee.” 

“I’m always cranky. You just bring that out in me.” Bones stared at Jim for a little while longer. “Spill.”

Jim gritted his teeth. “ _Nothing_.”

Bones pursed his lips. Scanned Jim’s face. Leant back and raised an eyebrow. “You been thinking ‘bout our relationship?” He paused and raised his eyebrow higher. “ ‘Bout not having one, maybe?” 

Jim’s mouth worked. “I— _no_ ,” he spluttered. He shifted to look at Bones. “That’s _not_ what—.”

“Jim.”

Jim shut his mouth. “Fine,” he said, staring at Bones’ shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe. Maybe I was. But not because I don’t—like, you’re awesome, okay, but—.” He stopped. Swallowed.

“But…?”

“But—I don’t.” He locked his jaw and looked away. “You’re gonna leave.” The three words were whispered into the linens. 

Bones had heard him. “And why the fuck would I do that?” 

Jim glared at him. “I don’t—I don’t _know_ , okay. You just will.” 

Bones furrowed his eyebrows. “I won’t. Unless you leave, first.” He shrugged, a too-sardonic smile on his face. “Then I can’t do shit.” 

Jim shook his head, staring up at the ceiling. “I won’t,” he said, his voice small.  

“You looked pretty ready just a few moments ago.” 

Jim was silent, unable to reign in his flinch.

Bones was silent. And then: “You’re afraid I’m gonna leave. Why?” 

Jim sighed. “You know why.” 

“True. But you need to say it.” 

“Why?” 

“Jim.” 

“Fine.” Jim swallowed. “Everyone leaves. That’s what they _do_ , Bones. That’s the way it is.” 

“I think we’ve established that I’m not _everyone_ , Jim,” Bones said, and his voice was soft, kind, the complete opposite of what Jim had been expecting. Jim had been expecting a sarcastic, gruff tone, maybe a few insults. “I told you that I couldn’t leave even if I tried, didn’t I?” Bones continued in the same tone, and he reached out a hand, turned Jim’s cheek. 

Jim stared into Bones’ affectionate, soft eyes, and swallowed. Tried to turn away, because it was too much. The emotion swirling in Bones’ eyes was more than he could handle. 

Bones didn’t let him, though. Tightened his grip, forced him to meet his eyes. “Okay, Jim?”  

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat, because the word had barely been able to come out. “Yeah, Bones, I get it.” 

Bones shook his head. “You don’t, is the thing.” He pushed Jim onto his back, bracketed his body with his own. He kissed him, soft and slow, and pulled back to say, “You think if I _see_ you, I’ll leave.” He kissed him again, harder, pushing Jim down, and Jim let him. He pulled back, and his eyes were dark, determined as he said, “Well, darlin’—“ the endearment made Jim flush “—wanna know what I see?”

“Bones,” Jim whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

Bones leaned down to kiss him again. “I see someone who’s gorgeous,” he said, and he kissed his way down Jim’s neck. “Brilliant,” he whispered. He tugged on Jim’s earlobe with his teeth, traced the outline with his tongue. “Beautiful.” Brushed his hands down Jim’s sides, kissing down one trapezius. “Brave.” 

Jim blinked rapidly, chest heaving as he breathed in and out. “Bones,” he repeated, because he _couldn’t_ , dammit, it was too fucking much, Bones was too fucking much, but his voice was too small, his protests were unheard. 

Bones paused just long enough to glance up at Jim, and then he continued down the deltoid. “Iridescent.” Nosed down his forearm and took Jim’s clenched fist, pried it apart, and dropped a kiss on his palm. “Trustworthy.” He repeated the procedure on the other arm, trailing kisses and brushing his lips against Jim’s skin, punctuating each pause with, “Boundless,” “Loyal,” “Talented,” and, “Resilient.” 

Jim could feel himself shaking. He clenched the sheets harder, swallowed, and in a thick voice, said, “Bones.” He couldn’t bring himself to look down, knew that if he looked at Bones right now, if Bones looked at _him_ , he was going to come apart.

He was flayed, vulnerable, _naked_. He couldn’t. He _couldn’t_. 

Bones ignored him. He kissed down Jim’s pecs, saying, “Charismatic.” He kissed his way down Jim’s abs. “Clever.” He leant back, and Jim looked down. 

Bones looked up at him, and said, his eyes too soft, his voice too kind, “Lovable.” 

Jim whimpered without meaning to. 

Bones leant up and captured Jim’s lips again. “Not perfect,” he said against his lips, “but that ain’t what I’m looking for.”  

Jim blinked, horrified to find tears—fucking _tears_ , he was _crying_ , he didn’t fucking _cry—_ in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, and Bones took the opportunity to kiss him again, deep and thorough, licking into his mouth and swiping his tongue against Jim’s palate. 

Jim melted into the mattress behind him, his hands coming up to rest against Bones’ sides. He was hard, _achingly_ hard, but all he could focus on right now was the feel of Bones against him, of the slow, lazy way Bones was kissing him, of Bones’ scent and his touch. 

He could feel Bones’ erection poking him, and, okay, sex was something he was good at, sex was something he could _do_. He tugged at Bones—blow jobs, he was good at blow jobs, they could discuss the whole top/bottom thing later, but in the meantime, blow jobs were good—meaning to hurry things along, maybe flip them over, but Bones just took his hand, twined it with his own, rested it against the mattress. 

“We’ll get there,” he said, smiling down at Jim, and he continued kissing Jim. 

“But I can—“ Jim bit his lip, hard, to keep in an embarrassing sound from escaping when Bones sucked at the right spot on his neck. “I can give you a blow job,” he breathed. 

Bones paused, stilled for a second, and Jim crowed internally in victory. But then, Jim felt Bones shake his head and continue kissing his neck. “Later,” he said against his skin. 

Jim opened his mouth to protest, and a tiny gasp escaped his mouth instead. He bit his lip harder, flushing, but he stretched his head to the side to give Bones better access. When he was sure he could properly talk, he said, “I’m very good at blow jobs.” 

Bones leant back and looked down at him, eyes dark. “I want nothing more to get your pretty lips around my cock, but right now,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Right now, I have a point to make.” He kissed him. Said, “There ain’t no rush.” Pecked him again. “We’ve got two hours, give or take a few minutes.” 

“But—“ 

“Jim,” Bones said. “Trust me.” He moved down Jim’s body.

Jim huffed out a laugh, and even to his own ears, it sounded a bit hysterical. “Like there was any ever question about _that_.” 

Bones grinned at him. “Good.” 

And then, so quickly Jim didn’t even know what was happening until it was done, he swallowed down Jim’s cock.

Jim arched up and off the bed, but Bones sturdy hands pinned his hips to the mattress. “ _Fuck_ ,” he said, mouth parted as he gasped.

Bones didn’t respond—which was a good thing, Jim realized—and instead bobbed his head up and down, one hand wrapping around the base. 

“Bones,” Jim said, voice trembling, and he was going to come, which was fucking ridiculous, but this was _Bones_ he was with, ridiculous should’ve been expected.

He was in love with the man, after all, and if that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing Jim had ever heard, he didn’t know what was.

Bones moved his mouth off Jim and Jim couldn’t keep in his sound of protest. 

“C’mon, darlin’,” Bones said into the crook of Jim’s neck, his hand working up and down Jim’s cock, just below too-rough. 

Jim shut his eyes and gave a sharp gasp, his muscles tensing as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him shaking, sweaty. 

He took a moment to breathe, chest heaving, and he blinked, vestiges of tears still in his eyes. 

Bones was still on top of him, kissing Jim’s neck, and Jim tilted his head to the side to allow him better access. Bones’ erection poked him in the hip, and Jim realized he still hadn’t come.

“Let me,” he said, words just a little slurred, and he moved his hands down to grasp Bones.

“Wanna fuck you,” Bones muttered against his skin.

Jim stopped. He’d let exactly one person fuck him, and it had sucked. A lot. He didn’t bottom, ever, and there was a very good reason for that. 

Bones pulled back to kiss him. “ ’S okay if you don’t wanna.” 

Jim swallowed, and Bones kissed him again. 

“Okay,” Jim said on a shaky exhale. “Okay.” 

Bones stared down at him, frown in his eyebrows. “You sure? I don’t wanna push you or—“ 

Jim reached up and kissed him. “I’m sure.” And he was. He trusted Bones, trusted Bones would make it good. 

Bones pulled back. “No, I’m serious, Jim, we can talk about—“ 

“Bones,” Jim said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to fuck me or not? Because if you’re not, I can be doing much more productive things right now.” 

Bones blinked at him, eyes dark. “Yeah, okay,” he said, voice strained. “Okay.” He rolled over and pawed at his bedside table, cursing as he hit himself. He pulled out a condom and lube.

“You’ve got condoms in your bedside table? The lube I can get, but you don’t have sex with other people, Bones,” Jim said, smirking.

“Wishful thinking,” Bones said, voice as dry as usual. “Now you gonna shut up or do I have to get a gag?” 

Jim wasn’t exactly _averse_ to the idea of a gag, okay, but he didn’t think this was the best time to bring it up. “ _You’re_ the one taking eons here, man, and I’m seriously starting to think you’re all talk.” 

“I’ll show _you_ all talk,” Bones grumbled, and, god, the man was grumpy during _sex_ , Jesus. Jim couldn’t help letting out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bones asked as he concentrated on getting the condom out of its wrapping.

“You’re grumpy during _sex_ ,” Jim snorted out. 

“That’s ‘cause I’ve got a raging hard-on you ain’t doing anything to help. I’m much more agreeable after an orgasm,” Bones said, rolling his eyes, his assault on the condom wrapper all but forgotten. 

“Hey, _you’re_ the one taking forever here, not me. I’m ready. I am willing,” Jim said. 

“That’s because you keep on _talking_ ,” Bones said, giving his patented _shut the fuck up please_ stare. 

“You can tune me out.” 

“I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. You’re just too obnoxious.” 

Jim grinned. “Yeah?” 

Bones raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Now shush. I’m trying to do this.” When he unwrapped the condom, he didn’t exactly punch the air, but he looked pretty damn close to it. He looked down at Jim. “How long’s it been?” 

“How long has it been since what?” Jim said, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Since you’ve been fucked.” 

“A while,” Jim said after a moment, licking his lips. “Why?” 

Bones shook his head. “Just wondering.” He brought up the lube and smirked. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“Already are,” Jim said, voice soft, and, okay, where the fuck had _that_ come from? 

Bones blinked at him before kissing him, slow and soft and sweet. “You deserve it.” 

Jim looked away. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Jim heard Bones sigh, and then the lube cap popping open. 

The first touch, cold and foreign, had Jim tensing up. 

“ ’S okay, relax,” Bones whispered mouth against his inner thigh, kissing. 

Jim looked down and Bones looked right back at him. Jim swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Right. I can do that.” 

“Good, ‘cause then I can do _you_ ,” Bones said, face straight, and Jim snorted.

“You’re kinda killing the mood here, man.” 

“You’re killing the mood by calling me ‘man.’ What are you, seventeen?” 

“What are you, eighty?” Jim said, and he was about to continue, but Bones pushed in his finger and Jim stiffened. 

“It’s okay,” Bones said, voice soft.

“I’m not gonna break, Bones,” Jim said, voice a little strained. God, it felt _weird_. Not bad, but not exactly good, either. 

Bones huffed. “Well, excuse _me_ for being considerate.” 

Jim smiled at that, and then realized what Bones was doing, the sneaky bastard. “You know, most people go with—oh—kissing or shit to relax their partner,” he said, shifting as Bones started moving in and out. “Not sarcasm and insults.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bones said, eyes down, and Jim flushed as he imagined the view Bones had. He added more lube and added another finger. 

It was starting to feel better, now, and then Bones hit his prostate and Jim arched up off the bed.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he said, eyes wide, because he’d never felt anything like _that_ before. 

“Prostate,” Bones said, and he could hear the smile in his voice. “Didn’t know about it?” 

Jim shook his head. “Knew about it— _fuck_ —but didn’t—didn’t know it felt like— _ah_ —this.”

“Well, now you do,” Bones said. 

“No s— _shit_.” It hadn’t come out as sarcastic and biting as he’d wanted. It’d come out a bit pathetic, actually. 

Bones was nailing his prostate every time—“Legendary hands,” Bones drawled, smirking, when Jim’s appreciation become rather vocal and he asked, “How the fuck are you _doing_ that?”—and Jim was fully hard again. He could see why people did this now, but he was getting impatient.

“I want you to fuck me,” he gasped out.

Bones stilled for a moment before he said, “Yeah, yeah, okay,” real fast, words tripping over themselves. He pulled his fingers out—Jim groaned at the lost contact—and he heard Bones lubing himself up. 

Bones was above him, looking down at him, and he guided himself in as he kissed Jim, ravaging his mouth with his tongue. His mouth slackened against Jim’s lips, and Jim gasped as he felt Bones nudging against his entrance, pushing in, slowly. 

Jim’s breath hitched. 

Bones stopped, looked down at him, and asked in a hoarse voice, “Okay?” 

Jim nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, fine, just—one second.” He shifted, trying to get used to the burn, the stretch, and then bit his lip as he nodded after a moment. “Okay.” 

Bones furrowed his brows. “You sure?” 

“ _Move_ ,” Jim said. 

Bones nodded and moved forward, slowly, centimeter by centimeter until he was bottomed out. Stayed there for a while, letting Jim get used to it, shaking minutely against him, forehead buried against Jim’s neck, mouth warm against his skin, breath fanning out against Jim’s neck.

“Bones,” Jim said, voice strangled, “fucking _move_.” He punctuated his sentence with a roll of his hips, and they groaned in tandem. 

Bones did as he was told and started moving. “Fuck, _Jim_ ,” he said, the words punched out of him, and Jim held on to his hair, pulled him down for a messy kiss that was too uncoordinated to be anything more than a clashing of mouths and tongues but still fucking perfect.

Bones fucked him in long, slow strokes, nothing like the hurried, frantic sex Jim always had. Patient, _tender_ , almost, and Jim would’ve scoffed at Bones if he wasn’t so far _gone_. 

“Bones,” he said, voice barely there, and arched up. “Fuck, _fuck_.” 

Bones looked down at him, eyes wide, mouth parted, breathing labored, and then buried his face against Jim’s shoulder. He kept on talking—about how good Jim was, how good he felt, how long he’d wanted to do this—and Jim let it wash over him even though he couldn’t offer any words in response, didn’t know what to say let alone _how_ to say it. 

It was funny, really. Jim always had something to say. Bones always managed to take everything Jim thought he knew and fuck it over. 

“C’mon, darlin’, c’mon,” Bones said, and he jacked Jim off in time with his thrusts. 

Jim arched, gasped, stilled, eyes wide. He came, silent, mouth open, and Bones groaned loudly before stiffening. Jim _felt_ him come, shuddering, and Jim shuddered along with him.

Bones fell on top of him, and Jim let him stay there for a while—he didn’t mind Bones’ weight on top of him; it made him feel good, _safe_ —before Bones rolled off. 

They were both breathing hard, staring up at the ceiling, shoulder to shoulder, skin touching skin.

Jim broke the silence first. “Not bad.”

Bones snorted and got up, taking the condom off and tying it up.

Jim might have made a small noise at the loss of contact, but he would deny it later.

Bones stopped as he sat on the edge of the bed and leant forward, brushing Jim’s hair off his forehead. “Be right back. Gonna get something to clean us off.” 

Which, now that Bones mentioned it, yeah, Jim was pretty gross. Bones got up and went into the bathroom.

“Two orgasms,” Jim said, knowing Bones could hear him. “Not a PB, but we can work on that.” 

“PB?” Jim could hear him rummaging around.

“Personal best.” 

“Oh, to have the refractory period of a twenty-something,” Bones said as he came back, and Jim didn’t even need to look to know he was rolling his eyes. 

“You’re a twenty-something, too,” Jim said, smiling up at Bones as he cleaned him up, though he didn’t really do much to help. He was feeling good, relaxed, limbs weighed down with satisfaction.

“Closer to thirty-something than twenty-something,” Bones said, throwing the cloth away, answering Jim’s smile with one of his own. 

Jim reached out and cupped Bones’ cheek.  He didn’t know why—he just did. “You know what they say about the thirties.” 

Bones raised a sardonic eyebrow. Jim didn’t know _how_ he made his eyebrows sardonic, but he did. “Do tell.” 

Jim kept a straight face as he said, “Fine wine, and all that. So, hey, you’re gonna be _fine wine._ That’s something to look forward to, right.”

“I prefer Bourbon, thanks,” Bones said, shifting so he could lie down next to Jim. He turned to him, and Jim scooted closer, spooning next to Bones. 

“Are we going to talk about mortality and life all that shit right after sex? Because if so, you need to work on your pillow talk.” 

“You’re the one that brought it up.” 

Jim leaned back and stared at Bones, because _the_ _lies_. “Uh, no, _you_ brought it up by commenting on my refractory period using my age.” 

“And _you_ brought _that_ up by talking about personal bests.” 

“ _You_ made the comment, not me.” 

“ _You_ brought the topic up.” 

“Indirectly, maybe, but _you_ totally—“ 

Bones kissed him, quick, soft. “Shut up.” 

Jim kissed him, too, thoroughly, because who the hell was Bones kidding with that weak-ass kiss? “If you admit I’m right, sure.” 

Bones rolled him over onto his back, smiling into the kiss, and, oh, _tongues_ were being introduced now. “Never,” Bones muttered, kissing him again.

“Then I’m—“ _kiss_ “—not making any—“ _kiss_ “—promises.” 

“Kid,” Bones said, raising his eyebrow, “shut up.” 

Jim laughed as he kissed Bones. “Never.” 

**Author's Note:**

> there y'all go. i've got two more installments written up, but we'll see when (if) they get posted up. anyway, thanks for reading, and please, let me know what you thought!


End file.
